Undisclosed Desires
by Cutestpixieyoueversaw
Summary: Stiles apparently has a type. You know unfairly attractive for this worldly plane while having perhaps some of the best wit around? The kind of wit that could be spoken with only facial expressions. Bonus if they gave Einstein a run for his money. Oh he forgot to add Alpha because it was now a thing, perhaps even a kink if he was going to be really honest with himself.
1. Chapter 1

Stiles apparently has a type. You know unfairly attractive for this worldly plane while having perhaps some of the best wit around? The kind of wit that could be spoken with only facial expressions. Bonus if they gave Einstein a run for his money. Oh he forgot to add Alpha because it was now a thing, perhaps even a kink if he was going to be really honest with himself.

Or the one where Stiles realizes that his life should be a MTV show because the drama he has is worthy of cable television.

Or the one where Stiles meets another pack and gets to understand that Bella and Sookie really had the worst luck ever and he is not them but really it's reading like he is.

P.S. Tinkerbell is a bitch.

* * *

It's telling of the life Stiles lives that he isn't really surprised to wake up in a holding cell after getting abducted from the parking lot of a club. He wasn't even surprised to realize his wrist were shackled and chained to the wall. Life choices man. Stiles blinked a few times to try to clear his head while the rest of his body caught up to the fact that it was alive still. He looked around his cell noticing that someone else, two somebodies, were with him. They looked beat up with bruises and dried blood over their clothing and body. Thinking he needed to know how badly he was hurt before he started planning any way to escape, Stiles started to check himself to the best of his current abilities to figure out how bad it was this time. It felt like there was dried blood on the side of his head, he really had to get better hobbies if he had an intimate knowledge of what dried blood on your head felt like. Stretching and bending the rest of his body he felt a few cuts here and there but relatively he felt alright.

Sitting back against the wall, Stiles tried to figure out a way to get the chains off. He already knew his normal means of getting out, yes he has lived the last two years of his life in questionable ways you don't have to remind him thank you, were not going to work. His back pocket, where he kept the lock picks and other perfectly harmless but really useful odds and ends, was empty meaning he couldn't go ahead and use that path to escape. He tried the chains next. Shaking them up and down and trying to measure the space and pull it. It was tight enough that he wasn't going to be able to just slightly push his fingers out their sockets to slip out. He was going to have to break a bone or two if he really wanted to get out. He thought he needed a new life if he knew it wouldn't be an issue, he had done it once or twice before. Stiles only had one problem with his little plan. Self-experience told him that it was a pain in the ass to do anything else once you did it. He was lacking in supernatural healing and going on what he saw so far, he wouldn't have any backup once he escaped the cuffs. He nodded to himself after a few more minutes of contemplation; he was going to have to be a little bit patient. He had no clue where he was, no idea why he had been taken exactly, and he wasn't sure what he would do after he got out of wherever he was.

Did Stiles mention that one of the hardest things he ever had to do was to sit still and wait for something to happen? That it was like a physical reminder of all the times he would be forced to wait in the hospital to see his mother slipping closer and closer to death's door? That it reminded him of all the nights he would stay up waiting for his dad to get home; praying to a God he wasn't even sure he believed in, much less one that listened to him, for his last parent to live past this night? Knowing that all he could do was wait and let the Faiths deal with it? The same Faiths which so far had showed him little love if this was the life he was dealt in the luck of cards.

No? Oh well.

* * *

Stiles opened eyes had no memory of closing and found himself in another room tied to a chair. His mouth was dry like there was cotton stuck inside- it was a nice tell that there was a high chance of being drugged. He considered trying to talk but thought better of it, conserving his breath for when it was needed. You know the drill-screaming until your throat feels like it's bleeding as much to express your pain and to hope that maybe you'll finally be able to just pass out from the pain. He was going to need more than new hobbies if he wanted to get out of a life where he could write a handout or really let's be honest, a damn New York Times bestseller novel, on the best and worst ways to deal with being kidnapped and tortured.

There was one light in the room and it hung above his head. Someone was going for cliché much. He tried upsetting the wooden chair only to find out that it was actually bolted down. Whoever had him here had imagination and had obviously planned ahead for any what ifs; he felt the little tingle of spark that told him the chair was made of mountain ash. He sighed thinking that this in so many ways had gotten worse now; he couldn't even lie to himself that this wasn't a supernatural issue. This had supernatural spray painted with red all over it. His life. ladies and gentleman, one adventure after another.

He barely had time to register the rustling of what sounded like light brushes of fabric against skin before he felt the slam of a needle jam itself into his neck. Stiles gasped silently trying to keep still lest he jerk too hard and break the needle. Turning his head the moment it was removed he had just a second to glimpse the curling smile of his captor.

Fucking fairies.

* * *

It was just his luck, more a lack of it that this was happening to him. This will be good for you Stiles. Don't worry about anything Stiles. I know the area Stiles and nothing will happen to you Stiles. You're too paranoid Stiles. Who cares if you're going to be in another state Stilinski? You're going to be alright Stiles, there'll be just a few witches at the house you're staying at nothing more. You're going to have the most boring summer ever. You're going to miss not having action in your life. Nothing will go wrong. Obviously everyone and their mother was wrong if this was the peaceful, normal, and boring training vacation they all proclaimed it to be. This was everything Stiles secretly (not so secretly) feared would happen to him. He was so freaking right. Anything that can go wrong will eventually go wrong.

Deaton had suggested it right before school ended and the fumes of happiness, senior year here we come and all that happy we passed jazz, could settle and make Stiles think about just staying home and soaking up a nice and perhaps last pack full summer. It sounded like a nice deal; two months in Oregon with a known and old coven of witches and sparks who could help him to refine what ability he possessed and hopefully give him better direction into what he apparently Stiles wasn't a hundred percent normal homo sapien, he was something that was a bit witchy, spark, and something else completely magical that Deaton thought it best if he met others. The man already had his hands full with Lydia, who apparently was a necromancer witch and was inclined to think it was a nice idea to try to drag Peter back to the grave. "I brought him above, I can send him back below." was the last thing Stiles heard her yell once she got the hang of things and disappeared with intent to destroy.

The thing is it was perfect. It was beyond perfect. For the first time in two years Stiles finally felt like he had some measure of control in his life. He didn't have to hide any of his interests, he didn't have to keep second guessing himself, and for the first time since his mother died, he could ask all the questions he wanted and get smiles instead of sighs, eye rolls, or snarls. They embraced him as someone special and interesting. He learned so much about everything, granted he didn't know what he was yet but it was going so well he didn't care. In the light of a pregnant moon that shimmered and bloomed Stiles could be honest with himself, he thought about never going back to Beacon Hills. He felt horrible the next day for thinking it. But in those moments, when it felt as if he could do anything and choose any path without any ramifications? He was ready to run away to this paradise.

The world decided that he needed to have a reality check.

Life thought it would be cute and remind him what kind of bitch it was.

Stiles got getting the message loud and clear. Nothing lasts forever, especially when it's as good as it was for the past few days.

* * *

Pain like hundreds of wasps stinging and claws ripping into his skin yanked him by the throat back to the world of the aware. He tried catching his breath only to wince when he moved his mouth; lips split and raw with pain. Breathing hurt, like a dull and shattering pain that worked its way inside out. He didn't have to lift his shirt to know that one of his ribs was bruised or near broken; Gerard gave him first-hand experience with the feeling. Stiles only wished he could actually know the full extent of his damage; it would make it easier to plan a way to get out of this.

"You're finally awake. And here I was thinking that I would finally have a silent audience." Stiles jerked his head around to stare at his captor. He had forgotten about her while cataloguing his injuries. The fairy, or perhaps pixie, stood dressed like a homeless hipster Tinkerbell. She was boney thin with eyes that flickered colors worse than Derek's ever managed to do on his magical princess days. He squinted at her trying to figure out why she looked so damn familiar. The last time the pack had played (which really that's using the word in the worst possible way one can) with a member of the fae, kids were getting abducted left and right because the music told them to come. Needless to say that particular fae had nice late permanent dinner date with death.

"So, what happened to you? Did Peter Pan get tired of you when he grew up?" he started. It probably wasn't the smartest idea of an opening to use all things considered. You know pissing off the villain who is in control of the pain you're getting is never a good idea. Sure Stiles could claim he was clever but he could never say the same for his life preservation skills. The punch to the face wasn't a surprise and based on the memory of the last time the power behind it wasn't either. Once the fear of the little stars floating above his head taking over his mind had faded, Stiles chanced a look at the pixie. "My bad, I meant to say even Captain Hook wasn't desperate enough to want a Tinkerbell reject like yourself." He sneered spitting blood onto her already torn outfit.

Stiles heard the distant buzzing and hum of what sounded like a hundreds little wasp and flies before he felt the stabbing pain.

The knowledge that burning flesh smelled like bacon was something he thinks he could have lived the rest of his life without ever knowing.

* * *

"-ing, 'you reap what you sow'. Really I should put a spell on you to make sure you can't talk at all. Imagine that little mouth of yours sealed away. Maybe I'll sew it up for you? Or should I give you the same fate as Maria in the Pit and the Pendulum? I could use the tongue of a virgin." she threatened in a sadistically fond way.

If Stiles was feeling charitable and not waking up from a pain induced blackout while being dragged against stone cold floor, he would have given her 7 out of 10 on her villainous threat skills. Peter was better though, much more creative. Hell Lydia could smile while telling you in the most graphic detail exactly how she would take pleasure in cutting out your bowels and frying them the stove before feeding it to you better than this. Eye of newt went out of style the second time he met a witch. He needed to get a better life if he could actually rate warnings for future bodily harm rather than actually listen to them.

"Does that mean you're Torquemada and my beauty is leading you into temptation? Because if so, really I'm sorry you can't handle all this jelly-" he quipped out as her nails dug into this neck cutting off his air.

They suddenly stopped moving before Stiles was jerked up and brought close. She would've been considered as pretty if it weren't for her, well you know, the ragged outfit and evil cannibal aura she carried around. She had big round aquamarine eyes that glittered even in the low torch light that lined the walls. Her hair was that blue black that only anime or dye bottle could ever really make work well and she had lips that were plump yet thin. She was everything a model could only wish to be at 5am in the morning without makeup. She was pretty. She was beautiful, even with her shark like teeth that gave him the chills as she smiled at him.

"Unlike like my darling but stupid sister I actually do have a poetic sense to my life." She purred.

"So the depravity is actually genetic. It's everything else that makes you 'unique'?" Stiles countered.

She shook her head at him never letting her smile slip. "Lamia was a fool who thought that time had stopped having meaning after the Greeks, which really was what killed her. She couldn't, how do you humans like to say, 'get with the times?"

"G-g-god she was that much an old hag? I take it back. You look wonderful for a grandmother Tinkerbell." He stammered out with a false laugh trying to get something other than her really disturbing grin to slip onto her face. Her ability to maintain a smile through his admittedly lack luster snark is something to be awed and feared. Someone that grins through insults only grins because they have something worst in store for you.

"Do you know what my name was? I was called Titania long before I changed my name a few years after. Do you know what I was called, hmm?"

"Demona? Raven? Bitch?"

"Maleficent. Someone has to inspire you humans every few decades. Thanks to you, I'll be able to live up to the name."

"I'm not sure you can convince me to ask you why." Stiles countered as he struggled to get out of her too tight grip, which only made her grin into a full on smile. She kept her stare on Stiles as she waved her unoccupied hand around in an infinity twirl that forced a wooden dungeon door to swing open. Magic. Great. Stiles did not like where this was going at all. He had played enough World of Warcraft, enough dungeons and dragons, hell he had lived enough and been kidnapped enough to know that this was not the door he wanted to go into. This is not the door you are looking for.

"You could say I was inspired by fairy tales," she taunted as she yanked him closer and closer to the door before literally throwing him inside so hard he slid the last couple of feet until the wall stopped him. The slamming of the door closing felt too ominous without the added fact of her grinning at him through the bars. "Remind me again, what happens to little red? Oh, that's right. She gets eaten. By. The. Big. Bad. Wolf."

Stiles didn't even have the chance to point out that the wolf gets cut open via the Huntsman's blade before he heard the growling start up right next to him. He startles and tries crawling as far away as he can get from the feral sounding growls. He doesn't get away far enough before his back is already against another wall and two pairs of bright blue glowing eyes open up to stare at him. He tries to swallow the first whimpers of fear crawling its way up his throat with sticky hands. This is bad. This is really bad. But it could always be-

"A little red for a big bad red!" She laughs out over the growing growls.

-worse. Stiles can hear his heartbeat as if it's right there, pumping right next to his ears. He can feel it punching away at the boxing balloon of his calm. He can only imagine how loud the terror must sound to the wolves. He doesn't think the stench of fear smells too pleasant either. In the shadow of the bleak light, he can see another shape moving to stand up behind the two betas. He can't care too much about the fact that Maleficent is still cackling as she walks away like a villain well pleased. He moves slowly to the left trying to inch away from the coming danger. This is not going to end nicely.

"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?" a girl like voice sings in the room much closer than he had previously thought.

Stiles swallows deep pushing against the wall as if he was Kitty Pryde and actually could phase through walls. "He's a great big sis-"

A rush of blue blurs across his vision yanking him up and slamming him up against the wall before he can even think about escaping. Did he have a sign across his body that said ' if found slam into things?' or something close to that? He didn't deserve to be manhandled this much. Callused tipped fingers grabbed hold of his chin tilting his head away from eyes of blue to a wicked grin and blazing pools of red.

The grinning alpha licked his lips, and honestly, Stiles isn't sure if he should still be afraid or turned on because god that looked sinful. He does not get any help from the guy either when his nostrils flair and his grin grows even more promising. He leans in closer towards Stiles' left ear and for a few seconds he honestly thinks he may be more at risk of dying from fear then mortification at mistimed lust. Fuck. Death isn't supposed to look hot. 'Please don't sound sexy. Please don't sound sexy.' he pleads to Fate to listen for once.

"Certainly not I?"

Fate is a bitch.

* * *

Comments always welcomed :D


	2. Chapter 2

"So how do we want this to go, the kinky or the scary way?" Stiles offered up in all honesty because really there were only a few options for this. Either porn or horror. (Wait, wasn't there gore porn out there in the world?) The snarl and slam into the wall – as if the point that he could be hurt at any time hadn't been made before – was as good an answer as any. "Scary it is then." he nodded to himself.

"Now, now I never said anything at all little red." the alpha smirked. His body leaned next to Stiles' suspended body in the most nonchalant shrug possible in their admittedly small prison room. Really it was just unfair in every single way possible for him to keep talking. The alpha had an accent, somewhere between Russian or English but absolutely weak-knee inducing. It was like hearing sex. He was shirtless with wounds that made Stiles not the least bit interested in knowing how they came to be. The fact that they were still leaking didn't make him too queasy. The alpha was lean the way swimmers were; strong muscles brushed smooth by the waves and chiseled compact by the cold. Stiles wondered if he tasted as good as he looked; like black coffee with a shot of whiskey, burning all the way down but worth it. He was at least three inches taller than Stiles and he never really had a height kink but he's starting to rethink it. Stiles doesn't want to even examine his tattoos because he's pretty sure if he gives into the urge to touch the looping, straight, colorful and plain, permanent ink on the guy's body he's going to lose a limb. Especially the important ones.

"Pretty sure actions speak louder than words, Balto." He chose to ignore the claws that dug into his arms. Scars impressed the ladies as much as the men, right?

"My, what a large mouth you have." The alpha grinned with a look that could only be called predatory.

"All the better to – you know what? Fuck you. I didn't just get the shit beat out of me by a freaking tooth fairy to get sexually harassed by some alpha who is overcompensating for his small dick." He shouted.

"Then how do you feel about being killed by his betas?" A softer male voice suggested from the shadows.

Stiles had forgotten about the second beta completely as he was preoccupied by the one holding him. Now that he actually turned his head away from the alpha, he could actually acknowledge that he was being beat up by a chick. Again. Now don't get him wrong, he was all for women equality and power. He just didn't get why he had to be the punching bag on their climb to total domination.

"Idiots should die, lest they repopulate the world with their kind," The woman warned with what sounded like an actual smile. Stiles squinted a bit to get a better look at her in the low light to see if she really was smiling, which with his track record of crazies he would bet his baseball bat that she was. She was. She had what looked like a broken nose, crooked and releasing a fountain of crimson to drape her face in war paint. She was appealing with pale porcelain skin that even though marred with bruises and cuts that were still bleeding still looked great. Lydia could take a few pointers. "It would be a shame if we let one idiot go when we had the chance to stop the disease, wouldn't it Lupe?"

"How about no? Bad girl, bad." Stiles objected shaking his finger at her. No self-preservation. None.

The male beta, Lupe, blinked slack-jawed with nothing but confused disbelief a few times before visibly shaking his head. It was a common expression Stiles induced in new people, the fact that even in his time of extreme terror he was able to still bring about something so normal actually calmed him a bit. Enough to relax, no. Enough for his previously forgotten boner to die, yes.

"In case you forgot, I already have you in my hands," she threatened lifting him up even higher which was a bit amazing all things considered. "I bet you scream like a slaughter pig when you get sliced."

"Going to cut me in half the way hunters cut your kind? Huh, Toto?"

Stiles spat at her face, satisfied when he saw that there was some blood mixed in.

"Oh this is going to be so painful for you. But don't worry; it'll be fun for me." Lupe assured.

Stiles would like to say he faced it like a man, face forward without blinking in the presence of death but let's be honest. He cringed in terror prepared to die. Which, yeah, more death scares. He was only 18 with more near death experience than combat veterans. What was one more? So he waited, with both bathed breath and weary acceptance for the first blow. What he got instead wasn't a hit, a kick, or even claw infused slap. He got dropped to the hard floor, which thank god he already knew how to deal with both a bruised and broken tailbone because god did it hurt. He rolled his body into a tight ball to protect his stomach and neck before taking a peek to the side to see why he wasn't being attacked.

Color him surprised to see what was happening. The alpha stood half in front of him with one hand around the girl's neck, claws making light indents into her skin but not drawing blood while his other hand splayed out claws first, dug faintly into the boy's stomach. The boy had his head down, shaking as he looked down at the claws that dug into his already wounded skin, suspended in mid step. Stiles is really glad he didn't have to go through that. One claw to the body was bad enough, twice would have been a bit much. The girl was a complete contrast to the boy, where he was shaking in fear and submissive she was frozen in anger and defiance. Her lips were lifted up and pulled away from her gums showing very tame human teeth but the message was clear, she wasn't bowing to her alpha so quick.

"Stand down Meghan." The alpha commanded not even raising his voice, and though she still looked at him with defiance her body did relax. It wasn't the time or place but Stiles considered asking the guy for his number if he survived this, not for himself (shut up brain) but for his alphas. Scott and Derek, maybe a bit more Derek, could take some pointers in how to deal with their pack.

"Why Aleksandr? Why shouldn't I kill a human who is begging to die?" Meghan questioned tapping against his hand still holding her which he ignored in favor of removing his hand from Lupe's chest. Stiles took offense in that description but at the same time he couldn't even argue about it. Seeing that the alpha, Aleksandr, had a nice hold on his violently inclined pack Stiles got out of his protective ball and just sat there against the wall trying to catch his breath.

"Other than the fact that the fairy apparently kidnapped him too-," he started to explain.

"He could be a trap for us, you can't trust a-," she interrupted snarling in Stiles' direction.

"Don't make me hurt you Meghan. Stop being stupid for a second and listen to me!" He shouted finally at some limit and really Stiles wasn't a werewolf and even he cringed back in fear of the power behind the shout. Lupe whined shuffling his feet around like a kid stuck somewhere he really didn't want to be while she tilted her head down looking away to the side. "Now if you would just calm down for a moment and use all your senses you'll get what I'm saying. Take a whiff. Take a good whiff around and tell me what you smell."

Both betas tilted their head back and inhaled deeply before exhaling just as strongly. They did it for a few minutes leaving Stiles alone to consider a few things. Now that he actually thought about it critically the three people in his cell when he awoke were either members of the same pack or other not so randomly kidnapped people. The real question though was why they were they kidnapped? He could assume he was taken as revenge for assisting in the death of Maleficent's sister. Which he doesn't regret the least; the bitch should have been killed earlier. But that didn't explain why there were to his knowledge five other people. Stiles was thinking how best to interrupt their deep meaningful discussion with the air when he noticed an itch on the side of his head, as if someone was staring at him.

"You've got to be kidding me." Meghan whined, rolling her eyes in the way that Stiles had come to think was a particular Hale only trait. "You can't even try to tell me this," she shook her hands in his general direction.

"You know he's not deaf right Meg?" Aleksandr advised arching a brow up in question. Stiles frowned because that wasn't right. There should be laws out there in the world to stop people who already looked too attractive from making too many facial expressions. He was staring at exhibit one right now and it was mentally hurting all his self-control.

"But –, he's –, it's so faint! How could we know?" Lupe complained with something too close to Scott's adorable confused face that he rocked back in freshman year. Scott had grown up so much in the years since he had gotten the bite that Stiles was tempted to make an altar begging to see that face once more. He ignored the fact that he was getting what he asked for.

"You know I'm still in the room?" He mentioned in case they had forgotten.

"Where's your pack?" Lupe asked skirting around Meghan to stand a little bit closer to Stiles.

He stood up quickly enough that the boy flinched back in surprise before realizing what he was doing and stopping. Stiles stared at them in consideration for a second weighing the pros and cons of saying anything. On one hand they were asking about his pack and if there was one thing that had drilled into them, regardless of being werewolf or human, was to never sell out the pack, to never give enemies or those who were unknown too much information about their home. On the other hand, the fact that he had a pack had probably been the only thing that saved him from being decoration for the floor. He had to survive this, but he couldn't hurt his pack in his selfishness to live either.

"I've got a better question, how strong is the scent?" He countered.

"One more wash and it'll be gone, you're lucky you didn't wash it off completely." Meghan scoffed.

"It sounds more like I'm lucky your alpha is better than you."

"How about we try not start a new fight?" Aleksandr commanded before leading by example and sitting down across from where Stiles stood. Lupe followed suit shortly leaving Meghan and Stiles to start a stare off full of contempt and displeasure. "The longer you both stand up the more energy you'll waste."

"I'm sure I can out last a human, even if he has a pack." Meghan challenged.

Aleksandr tsked to himself shaking his head in what could only be considered disappointment. "That wasn't a suggestion or request, Meg." Meghan swirled her head around to stare at him in annoyance only to be answered in turn by a bored expression. She turned around punching the wall twice before she sat down facing away from all of them. Stiles thought he was being a very mature near adult by not sticking his tongue out at her in victory. Score 1 for the human and 0 for the wolf. He flicked imaginary dirt, current situation ignored, off his shoulders.

"Unless you think you can take more hits to the head without getting a concussion, I would be sitting down before I have a party in my head." Aleksandr suggested in a mild manner.

Stiles frowned not understanding why he was in danger of getting hurt now. "Why would I be in danger of getting hit on the head? I thought we were cool."

"Let's just say that all the king's horses won't be able to put your head back together again. Which would be such a shame, so much potential would be lost."

Meghan snorted in her corner.

"I don't get it, use your words! My god what is with you alphas and not being able to use your words? Do you guys need to go to How to Speak to People 101 or something? I can't get into your head."

"You could try-" and if Stiles didn't know better he would think the guy was trying to flirt with him which 1) so not the time to try to get your groove on and 2) he didn't have a good reason after that.

"Oh my god! No! Not him!" Meghan yelled turning her head around.

"If you don't sit down you're going to hit your head when you pass out, dude." Lupe interjected.

"Why would I-" Stiles tried asking only to stop when he started to hear a faint hiss in the room. He turned around to see what looked like a rolling lilac fog curl under the door and crawl its way into the room. He tried backing away from the cloud not realizing it was seeping through the cracks in the stone as well until the whole floor was covered in the gas that tumbled and glowed like a firefly in the dark. He saw the wolves looking at him each with various expressions on their face; annoyance, direction, and care before the fog shot up into the air towards the ceiling and then fell over their heads.

He took a breath in and held it.

1...2….3...4...5

He could do this. He wasn't going to pass out.

20...21...22...23...24...25

He swam two hours in a pool against a kanima.

45...46...47...48...49...50

He swam to the bottom of a lake and punched a kelpie in the eye.

His knees slammed down to the floor.

He blew iron shavings into the eyes of a fae who tried to fly him to the moon.

115...116...117...118...119...120

He could do this.

132….133…..

He could-

He clawed at his shoulders and neck dragging slowly and drawing blood.

…...1…..3….4

this.

* * *

"You should have let him suffer." Meghan sullenly stated in what sounded like she already knew the choir had left the pews before the sermon was done.

"I thought you were an unpleasant nightmare." Stiles moaned dejectedly trying to make either the pain or the nausea go away. He wasn't sure if he was more likely to puke or cry and he very much didn't want to do either, especially with people who he had just met. Stopping the pain won out the battle. He moved his hand to try to see which hurt could be calmed enough to make it through a few more hours only to tense when Lupe dropped down next to him grabbing his arm into his hands.

"What are you doing?" His whole body sagged in uncontrollable relief as he visibly saw his pain seep away from his body and into Lupe's arms. "Let me change that, why are you doing it?" God he had nearly forgotten about the better than morphine effects of pain draining. He always thought that if hunters actually knew all they claimed they knew about werewolves they may have tried less killing and more capturing. It was like a drug, the kind that you tried saying you didn't want but you know if given the chance you would keep taking until you died in a zoned out stupor.

"You're going to want some energy to move when she comes back." Lupe insisted keeping his eyes trained to his arms.

"And to think you started off wanting to kill me, I'm glad our love will survive the night." Stiles quipped.

"If I don't do it, he'll try to do it and personally I don't want my alpha weak because he's helping someone who isn't pack." He stated matter of fact.

Stiles nodded his head in understanding; it was bad enough that their alpha had scolded them already for trying to hurt him. He looked around the room, not to find anyone in particular, wondering what was going to happen next. Aleksandr was standing up closer to the door looking out through the bars towards the top at an angle, peeping left and right while his fingers clenched and splayed out rhythmically. He stood on the balls of his feet which for the first time since getting here, (wow he really was letting a pretty face distract him) he realized were shoeless. Looking across the cell he noticed Meghan or Lupe were also barefoot. It was weird when he knew he still had his and now he needed to stop the happy feels.

"Hey, Lassie, you should stop with the pain mojo right about now." Lupe gave Stiles a peeved look with a slight flash of glowing eyes. "I'm taking away your pain and you're still going to insult me? Really?"

Stiles shrugged languidly. "I have a best friend I've known for too long, his mother reluctantly unofficially adopted me as her own, and I still make dog jokes about him. Be glad you're not a werecat."

Lupe shook his head warily with what seemed like a 'just let it go' mindset for all his future dealings with Stiles. "I can still take a bit more pain."

"And I'm telling you that if you want me to be anything other than a pile on the floor or high acting you need to stop. Trust me. I've had enough experience with this all, stop." He assured.

Lupe reluctantly removed his hands away from his body but he didn't' move away again. He leaned back against the wall, wrapping his arms, still had dark lines of pain moving up, around his pulled up legs. Stiles absently looked around the room not really paying any attention to a thing. He needed to start figuring out a plan soon, he didn't want to stay here or die. Meghan moved around slowly, pacing back and forth in a predator trapped in a cage like style, sometimes she even growled low in her throat after she made a few turns only for Aleksandr to turn to her and flash his eyes to get her to calm down.

After a while Stiles fell asleep. Which on one hand he felt chagrined for doing. Melissa had told him enough times to resist sleeping too quickly after hitting his head, but on the other hand he needed it.

Waking up to find that Meghan was at the door switching her eyes between the halls and his direction periodically was confusing until he realized the position he was in. He had his head leaning against something that smelled kind of nice and something heavy was on his lap. He looked down to see Lupe with his head turned towards his stomach curled around as if he was used to someone else he cuddled with, which meant that the shoulder he was very happily leaning his head on was Aleksandr's. He tried to move his head up quickly enough to get away from the alpha without waking the beta up.

"How long have we been sleeping?" Aleksandr asked scaring the crap out of Stiles and just destroying his plan to not move too much. You would think that with his years of dealing with people who didn't think it was necessary to make noises that he would have finally gotten used to it. He hasn't.

"I can't tell time here," Meghan began.

"God it's bad enough that my body hurts, I don't need your attitude on top of all of it too." Lupe muttered.

"I was going to say about two hours. No activity around us. But, I heard yelling and it sounded like them." She revealed.

"We need to get the hell out of here." Aleksandr stated not even trying to move away from Stiles.

"Not to be an asshole or anything but why can't you?" Stiles pondered out loud.

"Not only is the room lined with ash but the door is made out of mountain ash for starters." The alpha tried to explain.

"And she's injected us with some form of wolfsbane." Meghan added.

"That explains why you aren't healing. You have strength but you can't do anything with it. You can take pain but you can't heal and she keeps cutting you up. I don't have anything to pick any locks. And there may be more than just her here. So to be polite, we are screwed." Stiles summarized nodding.

As if his words had called her there, suddenly the door swung open for Maleficent to walk through . The wolves were growling in slight crouches standing ready for a fight they were going to lose if the two extra fae behind her were any inclination. She barely paid the betas any attention letting her eyes linger on Aleksandr for a long moment. The longer they stared at one another the angrier the alpha's face became, slowly morphing into the full shift. She tilted her head to the side in a bird like manner and for a moment Stiles seriously thought she was going to keep going into Exorcist levels of freaky. Which no. No. There wasn't a real check-out line for the road of life but he would die trying to find it if things got that far.

"Pity you didn't kill him, I'm not sure I'm going to feed you anything else during your stay here." She said turning away to look over Stiles frowning the more she looked at him.

"I convinced them that 145 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones wouldn't make a good a meal as a fairy reject." Stiles snapped. He heard Aleksandr and Lupe snort in amusement while her eye twitched in annoyance before a smile started to emerge on her face.

"You know, your other beats make such beautiful sounds when they scream, I bet these two would make even better sounds while they cry." she laughed flashing a sanguine grin.

"I wonder how loud you'll cry!" Aleksandr roared running towards her as if he would tackle her before suddenly pulling up in an uppercut and a slam into what would be her kidneys if she were human.

Meghan snarled as she and Lupe tried to follow their alpha's lead in the assault only to whimper when the two henchmen pulled out whips that hissed and burned, cracking them onto flesh. Aleksandr was trying to weave in and out of Maleficent's reaching hands to deliver some sort of blow that would get them out. Stiles tried getting up to join the fight for freedom only to double over in pain when she was suddenly there punching him before pulling her arm up to slam her elbow down. He fell to his knees, holding his body up with shaking hands only to get kneed in the face. Falling to the side he looked on as Aleksandr tried to fight against something that seemed to have him pinned against the wall while his betas withered on the floor in agony against the electric shock of the whips.

"You know I heard from some nice hunters once that wolves can't heal if you set the current high enough," Maleficent considered as she walked forward to lean over Meghan who alternated between sneers and cries. "Tell me, do you think hell burns as hot?" she purred.

Meghan's back suddenly bowed out pulling a gasp as her mouth gaped wide with fangs that glistened red from her own blood. Her lips were cut ragged. She surged up to Maleficent's ear, biting down and pulling in an enraged shout of triumph. Stiles let himself smirk as the Tinkerbell reject screamed jumping around pressing her hand to her ear. If he had any energy he would have crawled over toward Meghan and kiss her on the cheek, he was starting to warm up to her.

"You know, you sure make wonderful sounds when you scream, I bet I could get used to it." Aleksandr replied throwing a bit of her own words back.

"Shut up!" If Stiles ever wondered what fairies looked like when they were really angry, he was getting the answer right now. Her skin was actually turning purple while her eyes glowed dark. She reached a hand out into the air before both whips flew into her waiting hands. She twirled them expertly snapping both to twist around the alpha's throat and waist.

Stiles tried blocking out the screams but he couldn't block out the way Aleksandr's body protested the suffering it was going through. The way his arms bulged with power that couldn't touch, the way his eyes glowed brighter than the moon, the way his canines tried to bite at the air instead of his tongue, or the way he didn't let his face show anything but his anger at not being able to kill in vengeance.

"I'm going to enjoy shattering you, little king, and I know some of the best ways." She promised making sure to yank on the whips a few times before pulling them away and throwing them to the waiting faes. "But first," she placed her boot onto Meghan's chest and pressed down until the wolf was gasping in shallow breaths, "I'm going to break your darling beta until you beg me to die. And then, I'll make sure you live even longer to suffer through it all over again. Leave the others and bring her." She commanded, walking through the doors before pausing on the threshold. "Stiles, don't think I forgot about you. We'll have even more fun later." She promised.

* * *

As always comments are always loved! I think I'll be posting once a week or every other week at most.


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